Every Bone In Your Body
by Kat Darklighter
Summary: PWP. Jeff and Chris play a little game. Matt doesn't much like it. Contents include slash, Hardycest, violence, and hurt without much comfort.
1. Beginning

_"I hate  
every bone in your body but mine  
I can't  
wait 'til I can hate you tonight."_

I hated working the ring with him. I hated the fact that the audience loved the little whore so much. They cheered his every insane move like he was some sort of rainbow haired god. If only they knew the things I know about him.

I hated the looks he gave me as we put on a show of sizing each other up. The gleam in his green eyes, the knowing smirk resting on those ridiculously pouty lips. To a common outsider, his expression would be read as nothing but simple cockiness, but I knew what kind of thoughts were going through that twisted mind.

He's giving me that look right now. Smug bastard is gloating because he got the upper hand last night. What can I say? I was feeling off, had been all day. A brief flash of weakness, letting my guard down, and he swoops in like a fucking vulture and sinks his talons into me and carries me away.

Well, that won't happen again. No way in hell. And I'll get him back for it tonight.

When the match is over, we head backstage to the locker room to shower and change. I don't even look at him during that routine; he stays close to his brother, like they're attached at the fucking hip. When I get out of the shower, neither of them are anywhere to be seen. Must have gone back to the hotel room already. I hope they didn't decide to go out; I've been planning my revenge all day and I'm more than a little worked up at this point.

Moving quickly, I head out to my car and speed back to the hotel. I consider stopping by his room, maybe listening at the door to see if I can hear him in there, but decide against it. Too risky. He shares a room with that fucking brother of his, and that's the last kind of trouble I'm looking to get into.

So instead, I power walk back to my room and instantly move to the phone. Punching in his room number, I close my eyes and listen to it ring.

The shrill noise invades my head five times, and I sigh. Little bitch must have gone out or something. Guess it's just me and my right-handed buddy tonight. Or, maybe I'll call Adam and see what he's up to.

I hear the phone click right before I'm about to hang it up.

"Yeah?"

My lips twist into a smirk at the sound of that voice, and I just can't help but taunt him. "Charming phone manner you've got there."

He's silent for a moment and when he speaks again, his drawling voice is quieter. Maybe Matt is in there with him. The thought makes me uneasy, but also sends a shiver of excitement down my spine.

"What d'ya want?"

"I want you to get your ass over here."

"I can't."

"Now." It's not a request.

"Go fuck yourself," he tells me. I hear a click, and then dead air.

Hanging up the receiver, I proceed to pull off my shoes and socks and position myself near the door. I know he's on his way, and I know he'll burst right in without even knocking. He's getting so predictable these days.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, he comes barging through the door. But he's not prepared for me to be standing there, and he yelps audibly as I grab him and throw him carelessly against the wall. I reach out to slam the door shut and then pin him in place with my body weight. He pushes at my chest, scowling.

"What in the hell makes you think you can just call my room and order me around like that?" he rants. "What if Matt had been sitting there? If he knew, he'd fucking take you apart, and you'd deserve it. If you ever do that again, I'll-"

I pull away and hit him before he has chance to finish his empty threat. My cock immediately hardens when he back of my palm connects to his cheek and his head jerks to the side, spilling strands of bluegreenred into his eyes.

He looks back at me with unchecked hatred in his expression. I see him briefly suck the inside of his cheek, probably tasting blood I've just drawn.

He's gorgeous when he's hurting, but this is nothing. I have so much more planned.

I meet his cold stare with my own, lowering my voice enough to growl out a few words. "Don't you ever threaten me, you little bitch. That's your last-"

Before I can get out the rest of my warning, he retaliates with his own stinging backhand. The sensation moves through me and settles straight in my groin. Hmm. I didn't see that one coming. Maybe the kid does still have a few tricks up his sleeve. Good. I'll enjoy the challenge.

We both get the same idea at the same time and lunge for each other. Our lips crash together brutally and we both moan at the pain it causes. While our tongues fight to secure territory, our hands are working as well, leaving our clothing in a shredded pile at our feet.

As soon as I've got him naked, I sweep his legs out from under him and follow him to the floor. He groans as he lands on his back, the air rushing from his lungs. I'm on top of him in a heartbeat, making sure he doesn't have a chance to squirm away. I move in and kiss him again, if you can call what we're doing kissing. It's more an invasion, my tongue in his mouth, conquering every last inch. Every time he tries to move, I bite down on his lip, each nip harder than the last until he moans out loud and I taste blood.

With my body stretched out over his like this, I can clearly feel his hard-on press against me, throbbing every time my teeth or hands inflict pain on him. When I pull my mouth away, he gasps for breath, reaching up to wind his fingers through my hair. I start moving down his body, lips claiming his skin. I linger at his throat, sucking and biting the sensitive skin there. He'll be black and blue tomorrow, but what do I care? He's the one that'll have to explain it, not me.

He's trying not to make any noise as I continue my downward exploration, sucking his nipples and toying with that stupid bar through his navel. He doesn't want me to know how much he loves this, but I do. I know because I love it just as much when he does it to me.

His cock has leaked fluid all over his stomach and I lick it up, purposefully avoiding his straining erection. His hands are still in my hair, pulling harshly, trying to guide my movements. My hands spread his legs open and he doesn't fight the movement, probably thinking he's going to get some sort of satisfaction from it. He growls when I do nothing but suck the flesh of his inner thighs, so close to his balls, but not touching.

Grinning, I raise my head to look at him, a cheeky smile on my face. "Beg."

He glares daggers at me, but with the way he's flushed and panting, it isn't very convincing. "Fuck you!" he manages to breathe out, giving my hair another sharp tug.

"You'll have to beg for that, too."

Suddenly, his hand leaves my hair and his foot is connecting with my chest, sending me backward. But this time I'm ready for him, and when he tackles me, I easily counter. He makes this incredibly sexy desperate sound in his throat when I put him back on the floor, but this time I have to smack him a few times to get him to stop his goddamned struggling.

When I move up to straddle his chest, he spits at me, and continues trying to squirm away. It's my turn to take him by the hair, using my knees to keep his arms flat at his sides. When he realizes he's stuck, he stops to catch his breath, which I find to be a waste of such a perfectly good mouth. I tug his head up and put the head of my cock against his lips, looking down at him through the hair that's fallen in my eyes.

"Suck me off, you little whore. It's gonna be the only lube you get tonight." My hand tightens in his hair and I get ready to yank him backward; in the state he's in right now, he's very liable to bite. However, he doesn't move; just stares up at me defiantly, taking rapid breaths through his nose, refusing to open his mouth.

"You'd better get to work or I'll put you out in the hallway right now. You're no good to me unless I'm gettin' something out of it."

He takes my threat seriously and begrudgingly opens his mouth, letting my cock slide into the hot wet heat. Still keeping my hand fisted in his hair I dare to let my eyes close, relishing the sensation of his sucking and his talented tongue making flicking circles around my head. Leaning over him a little, I start thrusting into his mouth, ignoring the gagging sounds of protest. I know he's loving every second of this. And if he isn't.. oh, well. I sure as hell am.

When I pull my cock out of his mouth, he turns his head, choking and coughing. I laugh when I see his eyes watering, making it look like he's crying. He knows why I'm laughing and tries to wipe his face on the carpet; I know how he hates to look weak.

Saving him from any further embarrassment, I move off of him and flip him over. Kneeling behind him, I grab him by the hips and pull his ass up, grinding against him. He leans his weight on his elbows, head bowed. I'm surprised by his lack of spirit, but he must have finally realized I'd won this round.

I silently debate whether or not I want to prepare him, quickly coming to the decision that it would take too long. Using my hands to spread him open, I place my cockhead against his tight hole and rub it around some, spreading my precum and his spit. When I push in, I do it slowly, at least giving him a few seconds to adjust. I don't want to hurt him too badly, after all; I'd be doing nothing but hurting myself too if I put him out of commission for a few days.

When I'm finally buried balls deep, I stop to catch my breath, blinking the sweat out of my eyes. His hands are grabbing at the carpet and he's damn near hyperventilating, muscles twitching spasmodically around my cock. I guess I stayed still a little longer than he would have liked, because he finally spoke to me, the words coming out as a hiss through his clinched teeth.

"Move, goddamn you! Fuck me!"

That's one order I don't mind taking from him. I immediately start a hard, fast pace, slamming my hips against his ass and pulling him into every thrust. Usually he'd be pretending to hate this, that he loathed being used and just wanted it over with. But he'd already blown it with his desperate words, and now he knew there was no point. He's moaning with every movement of my hips, screaming when I hit his prostate head on.

He rarely makes these sounds, and it's driving me utterly insane. I need to hear more. Winding my fingers back through his hair, I jerk his head back while giving his ass a stinging slap with my other hand. The actions produce more desperate, strangled sounds from his throat and I can't hold back a grin. But even when he's on his hands and knees for me, he still can't help but antagonize.

"C'mon, is that all you've got?! That's fucking weak. Harder! Harder, you fucking cunt, I can barely feel it!"

I know I shouldn't let him get to me, but I can't help it. I pull out of him and get up, dragging him to his feet by the hair. He's wide eyed now and clutching at my hand, not sure what I'm going to do. I shove him face first against the wall and hold him there, my hand dropping to guide myself inside him once more. This time while I'm fucking him, I slam the side of his face and head against the wall a couple of times; not enough to knock him out, but enough to make him see stars.

Continuing to pound into him, I put my mouth against his ear and growl. "Can you feel that, huh? Can you feel that, bitch?" I know he can because I can feel him tighten, and I allow it when he snakes his hand down the front of his body, trying to get enough room between him and the wall to jerk himself off. He's stopped running his mouth off, now. Smart kid.

I can feel myself getting closer to the edge and I'm not going to hold it back any longer. After a few more brutal thrusts, I'm coming inside him and biting down on his shoulder to stop the screams that threaten to escape. In my haze of orgasm, I vaguely sense him tighten and shake against me. He sounds like he's sobbing when he comes and I wonder briefly if he's crying. Couldn't blame him, really. This is pretty fucking intense.

It seems like forever before I can see anything but black spots again, and when I pull out of him, he promptly crumbles to the floor. By some miracle, I make it to my bed before I collapse. I steal a glance over at him; he's curled up on the floor, shaking, covered in sweat, blood, cum, and bruises. I wonder how he'll explain his appearance to his brother. We've never gotten that physical before.

I don't say anything when he finally gets up and moves to his clothes, scowling when he finds them in tattered pieces. He looks around the room and for a moment, I feel sorry for him. He looks so helpless standing there, not knowing what to do. Before I even know what I'm saying, the words are escaping my mouth.

"There's a robe in the closet."

He jumps when I speak, as if he'd forgotten I was there. He looks at me suspiciously for a second before opening the closet door and taking out the standard white terrycloth robe, draping it around his abused form and tying it tightly. I hear him gasp when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that's on the inside of the closet door. He does look pretty well fucked.

He looks at me before he walks to the door, speaking almost hesitantly, as if he's not sure what my reaction will be. "Matty'll come after you."

"Fucking let him," I mumble, turning over.

I hear the door close and know he's gone. I stretch and smile to myself, drifting off into a sated sleep.

Lyrics courtesy of Poison and used without permission 


	2. Conclusion

_...I've got nasty, nasty habits  
And that's all you're gonna get  
From me..._

I'm not entirely sure what time it is, but the curtains of the room are open and I can see that it's pitch dark outside. The only light is illuminating from the moon and the glowing headlights of the cars that drive by several stories below. I wonder briefly what had awoken me; I'd been sleeping so peacefully after the fuck session I'd had with my toy earlier.

I stretch and feel my muscles ache in all the right places, being pleasantly reminded of the fun that had taken place. Still pictures flash through my mind; the way he looked when I hit him that first time, the glazed over look in his eyes when I fucked him up against the wall. I can clearly hear the sound he made when he came, how shaky his voice was when he delivered the idle threat right before he left. Remembering it all makes me want him all over again, and hate him even more because I know I can't have him right now.

Recalling earlier events has made me more than a little hard and I roll over onto my back, letting my hand trace patterns down along my chest, teasing myself. It's when I roll over that I catch the glimmer of light out of the corner of my eye. My door is cracked open, just a few inches, enough to let the light from the hallway sneak in.

Frowning, I get up from the bed and head over to close it, but before I can make it, someone grabs me around the throat and a strong hand covers my mouth. I can barely breathe, much less make any noise. It briefly occurs to me that maybe its Jeff, come back for his retaliation, but I know I'm not that lucky. This guy doesn't smell or feel like Jeff. And as rough as Jeff has gotten with me, he's never choked me to the point of unconsciousness, which this guy is well on his way to doing.

"Close the door," the phantom behind me growls. Several thoughts try to invade my head all at once, colliding with each other and smashing to bits before I can make much sense of them. But one thing lingers; I know that voice. I just can't put my finger on its owner. I wonder how he expects me to close the door when he's got me in the mother of all headlocks, but when I hear the door latch click, I vaguely realize that he wasn't talking to me at all.

"Lights," he commands, like he's God or something. I guess the light comes on, but with all the black shadows floating in front of my eyes, I can't really tell.

Right before I slip under the threatening wave of darkness, my captor lets go and shoves me forward. I end up on my knees, clutching at my throat that feels like its collapsed, gasping for breath. He stands back and watches me recover, and being the amazing genius that I am, I still fake the desperate breaths even after I've come back to my senses, just so I can buy some time to get a better idea of the situation. I look up and see Jeff standing in the corner, still wearing my robe. And if it's Jeff in the corner.. well, that gives me a pretty damned good idea of who's standing behind me.

Damn. Guess his threat wasn't as idle as I'd made it out to be.

I stop my fake gasping and stand up, turning to face a livid Matt Hardy. His dark eyes scream murder at me, his lips pressed into a flat line. His hands are balled into fists, which I'm sure have my name written all over them. I spare a glance at Jeff as he cowers against the wall, playing the traumatized victim to perfection. I realize in that moment that he actually wants me to get the ever-loving hell beat out of me. He'll enjoy watching it.

I'm still feeling a little light-headed and my senses aren't sharp enough to duck when Matt swings at me. He hits me square in the jaw and sends me tumbling back to the floor.

Before I can move, there's a knee in my lower back and I'm spitting hoarse curses at him as he painfully wrenches my arms backward and winds something around my wrists. I have no control over what I'm saying, and I'm not sure if it really even makes sense. All I can do is wonder what he'll do with me, if he thinks I raped his brother. I shudder at the thought.

"Son of a fucking bitch, what the hell are you doing?! C'mon, man, knock it off, I didn't do it, I didn't do anything that he didn't want, stop it! Stop!"

But he doesn't stop. Not until my hands are securely bound behind my back, tied tight enough to cut off my circulation. Only then does he pull me up off the floor, using my hair as a handle. It occurs to me then that I'm naked and half hard; turned on both by what I'd been doing before he showed up, and having been choked and bound. What can I say? I like pain. And I don't have the decency to be embarrassed by it.

He still has me by the hair as he comes up behind me, pressing flush against my back. If I didn't know better, I'd say that little ol' Matty was enjoying the situation, too. He presses his sharp chin into my shoulder and growls into my ear.

"You're gonna pay for what you did to my brother, bitch. Nobody treats him like that and gets away with it. You do everything I say, and maybe you'll get outta this in one piece. Jeff. Come here."

Jeff walks over like an obedient puppy, standing in front of Matt and me and looking at the floor. Probably just to hide the vindictive fucking look I know he has in his eyes right now, not wanting to spoil the fun.

"Drop the robe." I swallow as Matt barks the order, wondering what my punishment is going to be, and daring to think that maybe I'd like it. Jeff does as he says, untying the robe and letting it pool at his feet. His cheek is swollen, lip split where I'd bitten him, throat purple with the hickeys I left. I hear Matt draw in a sharp breath, figuring he was just getting pissed off all over again at seeing the marks.

"Look what you've done to him. How could you? You're gonna make him feel better." Matt shoves me closer to Jeff until I'm all but leaning against him. The strong hand in my hair guides my face to Jeff's swollen cheek. He hasn't showered, I can still smell myself on his skin, and it turns me on even more.

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, and so I just stay still and wait. Finally, Matt speaks again. "Make it better," he says. I do the only thing I can think of: press a kiss to Jeff's swollen cheek. Matt seems satisfied by this, dragging my face down and over until I'm kissing at the small tear in Jeff's lower lip. Jeff, losing control over his innocent façade, moans low in his throat and kisses me back. I tense up, preparing to be reprimanded for his actions, but Matt only watches. When he deems his brother's lip accurately lavished, he pulls my head down so I can soothe Jeff's colorful throat.

We go through the entire map of Jeff's body, me kissing each and every mark I'd left behind until he and I are both completely aroused. When I've covered almost his entire body with kisses, Matt pulls me up and throws me carelessly onto the bed. He turns his back on me, and there's no reason why he shouldn't, really; my hands are tied behind my back, after all. There's not much I could do to him right now.

I watch as he cups Jeff's face in his hands and brushes a kiss over his lips. It borders on uncomfortable, but doesn't get all out freaky until I see their mouths open and their tongues brush against one another. That's totally sick, man. Sick and disgusting, two brothers making out like they are. So why is my cock throbbing like this?

"Do you feel better, baby?" Matt whispers when he's pulled from the obscene kiss. Jeff, adopting his childish demeanor back, nods shyly, averting his eyes. The fucker should win an Oscar with those acting abilities.

"Good. Now you jus' sit on back and rest, angel. I'll take care of everything." With that, Matt turns those dark eyes back to me and I can't help but gulp. He stalks to the bed dangerously, and I'm not sure whether to be scared or horny. The two emotions are pretty well balanced at the moment.

He pushes me onto my back and kneels at my side and before I can even remotely grasp what's happening, his mouth is around my cock, sucking like his life depends on it. I'm thrashing on the bed and I can't catch my breath, and he just holds me down and sucks harder, using that tongue of his to amazing effect. Jeff comes to my other side and kneels across from his brother, alternating his looks from me to Matt and back again. When he speaks, his voice is thick with lust. Lust for his own fucking flesh and blood. Its twisted and wrong and I almost cum at the thought.

"God, isn't he amazing, Chris?" His hands move into Matt's hair and pull it back, giving us both a better view as his lips stretch around my hard-on. "Don't you just want it to last forever?"

I try to choke out some semblance of a response, but what escapes isn't even close to coherent. And if I thought that was bad, I become even more of a blabbering mess when Jeff leans down and chases Matt's mouth up and down my cock with his tongue. As if they were working on one mind, they immediately fall into a perfect rhythm, taking turns sucking me and licking my balls, until I feel like I'm gonna explode.

I can feel myself teetering on what I'm sure will be the most amazing orgasm of my life, when suddenly both mouths are gone from my skin. I open my eyes to find both men entangled in each other, a mess of strong limbs and sloppy kisses. I whimper my protest, but neither of them seems to hear. Jeff pulls back and begs his brother with his eyes and that sweet voice.

"Oh, Matty, I want you so bad. I don't think I can wait until we get back to the room."

Matt smiles a dark, secret smile, one that I've never seen from him before. One that, I realize, is reserved solely for his brother, his lover, in moments like these. I feel like some sort of cheap, dirty voyeur, seeing them like this. It's the greatest fucking feeling in the world, I decide.

Jeff positively beams when Matt starts removing his clothes. They position themselves on the bed right next to me. If my hands weren't tied behind my back, I could (and definitely would!) reach out and touch them. Jeff reaches out to my nightstand and fumbles in the drawer for the lube he knows I keep there. Smiling triumphantly, he hands it to his brother.

I can't believe they're going to do this, fuck right here next to me. I can't do anything but watch with wide eyes as Matt slicks his fingers and slips them into his brother. Jeff's eyes roll back and he makes this small keening sound, angling his hips toward his brother's hand. He takes his time preparing Jeff, pumping and scissoring his fingers until he's absolutely sure Jeff is ready.

Matt removes his fingers and takes Jeff by the ankles, putting them against his shoulders. When he pushes in, he does it in one, slick motion, meeting absolutely no resistance. Jeff gasps and his eyes fly open, fixed on Matt. I know he's got to be sore; I gave him the fucking of a lifetime just hours before. Matt waits patiently for Jeff to adjust, like the considerate lover he seems to be. After a few minutes, he picks up a steady rhythm, and Jeff takes it like a trooper. If it hurts, he certainly doesn't show it.

They fuck nice and slow for a few minutes, but it isn't long before Jeff's legs are wrapped around Matt's waist and Matt has Jeff by the hips in what looks like an iron clad grip. Matt's hammering into Jeff with all his strength, pulling his brother into every harsh movement until nothing but Jeff's head and shoulders are actually touching the bed.

I know I must look like the epitome of stupid right now, my mouth hanging open dumbly as I blatantly watch them have sex. But it doesn't really matter, because I don't exist to either of them right now. They don't care that my entire body is absolutely burning up with the need for release. They don't care that my cock is so fucking hard that it hurts. They don't care that I'm going to bury my face in a pillow and suffocate myself if I don't get to cum soon.

Hell, I almost do cum when Matt leans over a little, just enough to whisper some husky words to the man below him.

"Christ, Jeffy, you're gonna make me cum. I'm so close right now. Just tell me you want it, baby. Tell me you want it, and I'll give it all to you."

And Jeff obeys. He cries and screams and begs for his brother to cum inside him, and Matt makes good on his promise. With one more hard thrust, he releases inside Jeff with a triumphant howl. I can see him shaking, can see the tremors run through his body and make his muscles jerk and spasm as he empties his load inside his own brother. A small, strangled sound escapes my own throat when Jeff cums without so much as one stroke to his cock; brought over the edge solely by feeling his brother's climax.

They collapse against each other, murmuring words and exchanging sweet kisses. It's so tender and slow that I want to fucking puke.

"Um, did you guys forget something, here?" I say hopefully, turning my eyes to my own raging erection. Jeff disengages himself from his brother and they both get off the bed. Matt puts his clothes back on and Jeff retrieves his robe. When they're dressed, they wrap their arms around each other, and look at me.

"Someone will be here in the morning to untie you," Matt says. "You'll spend the rest of the night aching to get off and remembering that you can't do so because of how you treated my brother. Now, if you want to continue fucking him after tonight, go right ahead. But you'd better take better care of my property when I loan it to you. I won't settle for damaged goods." With that, he turns and walks out of the room. Jeff follows him, exiting only after he'd turned to flash me the biggest goddamned shit-eating grin I've ever seen.

Matt comes into my room the next morning and unties me, leaving again without a single word. It takes nearly twenty minutes for the feeling to completely return to my fingers.

Two days later, I lure Jeff into my hotel room and love him black and blue. I split his lip and blacken his eye. I fuck him dry until he bleeds, and he just screams at me to do it harder.

What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment.

Lyrics courtesy of Sebastian Bach & Skid Row used without permission


End file.
